Hatred Makes the Demigod Walks
by Cookie Master's Apprentice
Summary: In a subway, after the fall of Kronos, a demigod contemplates her failures and her dreams' murderers. One-shot.


**Hatred Makes the Demigod Walks**

_It could have gone better_.

Melody Jones sat quietly in the subway station, shivering with cold, her right hand covering the hole on her left shoulder. It was still bleeding, but it had somehow missed both bones and vital organs, thank the Titans. They were not merciful, that she knew, but Melody could not thank the gods. If there was one thing she knew from birth, then that would be the gods' cruelty. She hated them. She hated them to the bones. She hated her unknown father who had rained death and sorrow down upon her mother and herself.

_Where are you when that Dracaenae chased us?_ Melody thought bitterly, gratefully turning her thoughts to her accursed father, away from the pain, the cold and the despair. _You have a child with Mom. You must have loved her. She certainly loved you. So why…? Why didn't you claim _me_?_ _Isn't that the least you could do? Am I such a _shame _that you can't even bear to make that glow-y sign of yours appear on top of my head?_

_I hate you. Whatever happens, whoever you are, I HATE YOU!_

She took a shuddering breath. And now they have trampled upon the world Lord Kronos had promised her and her friends. They have ruined it. They have trampled on it, had killed her allies, had ended what she thought was the hope to a better world, a brighter one, one with more caring divine rulers. Melody opened her eyes and glared at the wall across from her, letting out all her hatred, pain and fear – for she was still afraid that she would be slain – she had inside her. She wanted to hit something, but her body was cold and unresponsive.

It should have worried her, but her mind recognized it as a mere, tiny discomfort. _Infection,_ she thought faintly. _Yeah, I'll have to see to the shoulder. Maybe infection's setting in_. Yet she made no move. She simply didn't find the strength anymore. Everything was lost. Her side was crushed. Her friends killed. Her lord turned to dust by that Percy Jackson.

Once again, her entire body was lit alight with hatred. She loathed him. He was the cause of everything. He was the cause of her dreams' failure. He was what had ended her hope. No one would accept her now. She was nothing more than a criminal, one of the tattered remains of the loser's side, to be spit and trample on.

_Perseus Jackson._ She have only heard that name a few times and have only caught a flitting image of him once in her life, but now that blurry memory was sharp and dominant in her mind, and she saw red. Removing her right hand away from her wounded shoulder once, she slammed her fist hard against the wall behind her, hearing it crack. Or was that her hand? Probably the ladder. But she welcomed the pain, and she threw back her head, letting out a howl of laughter. She sounded crazed even to her own ears, but she didn't care.

Her laughter died when it turned to fierce coughs. She covered her mouth, trying to stop the spasm, and when she removed her hand from her mouth, it was red. She didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Not her life, not the army, not her dreams. Nothing.

The tears came now, fast and furious and unstoppable. Melody curled into herself, too exhausted to even bother to stop the sobs that wracked her body. Her pain and her cold didn't feel so evident anymore. They were like minor discomforts at the very edge of her mind. Not that it matters. She could die here and nobody cares. The rats would eat her. So be it. A fitting end to a fittingly miserable existence. Perhaps death would be better.

But no, Hades would not let her be forgiven. She would spend the rest of her eternal afterlife in the Fields of Punishment. Melody doubted there would be any kind of torment that could surpass _this_, but she could never be sure. He could make her relive the fall of her lord over and over and over again, or –

Melody violently ended it right there. It would do no good now, she coaxed her hyperactive imagination. Nothing would do any good. Dead or alive, she wouldn't have peace. So maybe she might as well live. But what for? Everything she had once lived for was crushed to dust. By that Percy Jackson and his little friends. Yes, it was all _his_ fault. He has much to answer to.

_Revenge_. She desperately wanted to seek revenge, to make that demigod feel so much pain he would never be able to raise his head again. But she knew she was just dreaming. She could never match him. Melody wasn't stupid. It had helped her live through her allies' demise in Kronos' ranks. It also gave her a rational mind, and that rational mind was telling her firmly that she would never be good enough to kill an invincible guy who even fell the Titan Lord of Time.

_There are other ways._

Melody froze. She remembered what Ethan Nakamura, her lord's servant, had told her once. They were not even close to friends – there was only me, myself and I for each and every of Kronos' soldiers, because you do not want to get killed – but she was agreeable to him and tolerable, so they have gotten on excellent terms. They've been talking about inflicting pain and torment on particularly stubborn prisoners.

_Sometimes there are fools who held others in higher regards than themselves, _Ethan had said. _Like, for instance, that son of Apollo we got our hands on last summer. He wouldn't say a word, even mocked us, but we dragged his mother in and suddenly he was a spring of information._

Oh, yes. There are _always_ other ways. Melody grinned. Yes, of course! She had been a fool. She could always live just so she could see Jackson suffer. Agreeable. Excellent idea, even! Why did she not think of that? She silently thanked Ethan and uncurled, taking a deep breath.

She would need to get help first, Melody decided. She was in no condition to do anything but sit and sob. _Pathetic,_ her lord's voice – Luke Castellan's, really – sneered in her mind, and she winced. Pathetic indeed. She was a servant of Kronos, and she shall _not_ die in a sewer. No, she would live and see that some of her lord's enemies pay the right price for what they did. Not like there was anything they _could_ do to pay, really.

But it would be a start.

Painfully, Melody hauled herself upright. Her head felt light and the world flashed a brilliant white for a second, but she leaned against the damp, dirty wall and gritted her teeth. She would _not_ fall. She had dreams, allies and her lord to avenge. Until then, her pain and discomfort are close to nothing.

And may the Titans marks her words, she _will_.

* * *

_Now, before questions go flying around, this is a ONE-SHOT, okay? It's DONE. I do not trust myself with an OC anymore, especially a human. I don't want more Mary Sues. I have committed the sin of creating such shameful abominations before, and I am not willing to fall back into it again. No way. So be happy with this._

_Reviews?_


End file.
